


An Unusual Patron

by K (Thiswasmydesign)



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: About writing evil, F/M, I felt bad, Mob boss Mello, Outcast Sayu, Probably barely M, Rare Pairings, So have nice things, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 23:47:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14200272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thiswasmydesign/pseuds/K
Summary: Where Mello, not Near, was the one to defeat Kira in his usually showy way, Sayu Yagami lives in a world where people recognise her only as the sister of Kira no matter where she goes. She can never stay in one place for too long before people recognise her and she is cast out.Based on tumblr prompt; One day you lose your wallet and it is found by a mob boss...





	An Unusual Patron

Sayu Yagami was having a bad day.

A bad week, a bad month… a bad year.

A bad forever, and there was no prospect of it ever looking better. There was no silver lining to this cloud, ever since the day her brother had been killed, identified as Kira.

She should change her name. She should just change her name and end all chance of being associated with Light. Except her face had been plastered all over the media too, and not just in Japan. Worldwide. Besides, her brother had always been the only one in the family who was any good with languages. She was stuck here in Japan, in the epicenter of the storm. Where the memory of Kira was at its sharpest, two years on.

It was always the same. She was a good employee, she worked hard, she did her job without complaint no matter how menial, but then she would be recognized, even though she had dyed her hair and applied so much make up and tried, desperately, to be anyone other than herself. She would be spotted, and someone would identify her, and even if the boss gave her a chance it was too late. As soon as they spotted her, Kira’s sister, the business would be plagued with a loss of customers and a plethora of onlookers all come to spy the infamous serial killer’s closest family, the one who had so foolishly spoken out in his favor in the beginning.

She should have held her tongue. No matter what her thoughts were about Light, about the actions he had taken as Kira, she shouldn’t have tried to make the world honor his memory. She should have played her cards close to her chest, mourned him in secret whilst smiling for the cameras and spouting some rubbish about how she was glad he had been caught, as if she could ever be glad that her brother had been shot and killed in some filthy warehouse by a man he had considered like a brother to him.

Matsuda had wanted to comfort her afterwards. He was such an idiot, he thought that he could shoot her brother and she would go running to him for comfort? No. Sayu was not that sort of girl. She was no one’s sort of girl anymore; world weary and hardened.

She had lost her job again, that day. Well, the boss hadn’t fired her yet, but she had just collected her pay for this month and now that she had been recognized it would be only a matter of time. Better to walk out on her job, better to leave. It didn’t pay well anyway, cleaning toilets in fast food restaurants not exactly at the cutting edge of business.

She had been recognized again by someone else in the bus station, and the cameras had been pulled out. She had ducked and ran, but in the scuffle as she tried to get out she had dropped her bag, and now she didn’t have her purse, her paycheck or her house keys.

She still had her phone, but what good would that do her? It wasn’t like Sayu Yagami had any friends, and she had moved halfway across the country to get away from her previous home in the hope of no longer being recognized.

She lived only a couple of miles from the bus station, but the rain was pounding on the pavements and she had no umbrella – this had been in her bag, too, and no way to get into the house when she got there. Still, what else could she do but go home and maybe call a locksmith to get her in. Should she report her bag missing? She would feel a little bad for whoever had picked it up – after all they hadn’t stolen it, and besides, the police were some of the worst people in the world to Sayu Yagami now.

As she walked up the driveway to her home, she swore quietly to herself. As if her day could get any worse.

The door stood ajar. Someone had been in, probably someone who had found her bag with her address and her keys. She couldn’t bear to go inside, terrified that someone would be waiting for her within to end her miserable existence.

Should she call the police now? Yes, definitely, but the person inside could be a police officer for all she knew and calling them would only add to the number ready to assault her. If she had been anyone else she would have thought herself paranoid, but not for a Yagami.

“Hello? Whoever’s in there, if you’re robbing my home, please come out. I won’t call the police if you just come out now,” she called from the patio. “I promise there’s nothing in there worth your time, but I’ll give you my necklace if you just come outside.”

There was nothing. No movement, only silence. Sayu held her breath, kicking open her front door.

Faint wet outlines of footprints leading from the door to the hall table… and back out again. Had they come inside, realized there was nothing to steal, and left?

She didn’t have much; the house was rented, and it wasn’t exactly extravagant, with a living room slash kitchen on the ground floor and a bedroom and bathroom on the second. She had no television in the living room, no electronics aside from her lost phone and its charger, and short of carting out the sofa, the kitchen wares or attempting to steal the bed, there was nothing to take.

She swallowed nervously, not at all comfortable that whoever had been there was actually gone no matter how the footprints looked and stepped further into the tiny house.

The linoleum floor shifted as it always did, and the coffee table rocked as its uneven legs allowed – and clinked.

She paused, opening the drawer of the coffee table slowly, and there inside were her keys. She reached in and removed them.

A good Samaritan had found her bag then? But… no, if they were really a good Samaritan why not leave the whole thing? A neutral Samaritan then, if such a thing existed. He or she wouldn’t lock her out of her home but wouldn’t turn down whatever small financial gain they could get from her.

There was a white envelope also in the drawer, and she opened it, wondering what the thief would have left.

Her identification stood out at the front of the envelope, and she twitched, expecting the worst. Maybe the envelope contained some sort of poison that would be released when she removed its contents? Whoever had placed this here knew exactly who she was. That ruled out the possibility of kindness, of charity. No, there would be foul play involved, because she was a Yagami, and the world tarred her with the same brush as her brother.

The identification covered her bank cards, both current and savings present and correct and undamaged so far as she could see. Probably emptied, of course, but the cards would be helpful. Behind these, a sheet of folded paper.

A letter from the good Samaritan?

She unfolded it, holding her breath in case of an airborne poison, but there was nothing obviously wrong, only a note and from it, falling at her feet, her pay slip.

_Yagami Sayu,_

_Your bag was ruined, and your purse was stained. Your umbrella is in the empty plant pot next to the door. Buy yourself something sturdier, and a warmer waterproof coat._

That was it. No name, but then what had she expected? Not this. A tirade of insults, perhaps, but not this simple request. Simple – if she had money, anyway.

However, it seemed she had found a good Samaritan after all. He or she had returned her vital items even though they knew who she was. That was something.

That was _everything_ to Sayu, and she had to wipe tears from her cheeks as her gratitude overwhelmed her.

* * *

 

That day she hadn’t even considered that the walk home would give the good Samaritan time to have her keys cloned, but a week later on arriving home from a job interview she realized this and it felt like being hit by a freight train.

The door was ajar again, and she hovered on the doorstep, once more calling inside, offering the intruder a chance to leave.

“I won’t be angry,” she promised. “Actually, if it’s you, I’ll be so happy, I wanted to thank you…”

Nothing. She went inside.

There was nothing in the drawer of her hall table either, or in the sitting room, but in the bedroom were a number of bags all laid out on the bed.

“Are you here?” she asked the empty space, flicking on the light. Silence. Whoever it was had gone.

She opened the first bag and gasped.

The clothing within was not her style; leather and lace and silk and satin, reds and blacks and oh so sexy. She held up a particular piece, a loose sleeved white blouse, paired on the same hanger with a black leather corset, and spotted the tag.

Shit, but this was expensive. She set it back in the bag carefully.

So, she had acquired a rich stalker? There was no way she could wear any of this, but it was beautiful.

The next bags were different. These were work clothes, beautiful tailored suits with neat pencil skirts that would look perfect for a chief executive at some fancy company, not a waitress at a greasy café. The designer labels on them said it all about their pricing. The final bag was more her style; skinny jeans and casual blouses, modest and understated, the sort of thing that would let her pass unnoticed in a crowd.

“Thank you,” she breathed, sure that her stalker wouldn’t be able to hear her.

* * *

 

That was the second job she had been fired from in a month, and she was starting to think she would have to move. Too many people knew she was in the area now, too many were looking out for her. At least they didn’t know where she lived yet.

The door to her home was ajar when she arrived, and this time she crossed the threshold without the same degree of fear. If her stalker wanted to hurt her he or she could have done so a thousand times over by now.

An envelope on the hall table contained another note, and she opened it in the living room, not noticing the changes.

_Sayu Yagami_

_Please do not fear that I have your bank details; I have no intention to use them for any other purpose. Take a break from work, get yourself together. Watch some crappy TV and keep your head down for a while._

She frowned. Her bank details? She knew her stalker had seen her cards. But what other purpose? What purpose had he used them for? She only had one week’s pay in there, living from hand to mouth as she was, there would be very little to steal and if he had stolen her money how could he suggest the rest? Was he teasing her? And surely, he knew by now after having been in her house three times that she didn’t have a television.

Except, as she looked up from the letter, she realized that she did.

It was comically large in her cramped living room, easily fifty inches and it looked expensive; thin and elegant and so far out of her price range that she couldn’t imagine ever having bought herself such a thing. Her rich stalker had bought it for her, no doubt, and he left the remote in front of the screen, a ribbon attaching the remote to a bar of chocolate.

She could hardly believe her eyes, and read the note again, turning it over, looking for some sort of demand, some trade proposed to give her this but her stalker requested nothing.

Oh, but would he be offended horribly when she sold this? It was her only chance to have a break, to eat and sleep and rest a while, to stop searching for a job just for a few weeks. Oh, but it was such a wonderful gift, and she could sell some of the clothing first, the business suits could go, she wouldn’t use them, and then she could keep this television…

But what _had_ he done to her bank? Warily, she checked her online banking and stared.

One million.

One million yen… she closed the app, opened it, looked again.

Still one million yen.

More money than she had ever seen in one place in her life.

More money than she had expected to earn in half a year at the rate she had been going.

This… this was a lifeline, this was her freedom.

She could leave, she could go, she could get out of the country. She could get away…

Except, where could she go to? No, she had to stay in Japan, but perhaps elsewhere in Japan…

But then she would leave her stalker, her unusual patron, and when she did she would run in to problems again. Right now, vulnerable as she was, she felt the safest she had felt in years.

She had a guardian angel looking out for her.

* * *

 

She was still trying to find a job, and money was running out quickly.

One million yen had been able to pay off a few debts, and to give her time to search for better employment, but she was failing again and people knew her on sight now. She had been banned from her local shops and even the cost of the bus to where she was not unwelcome was too high to continue for very long with her finances in the state they were in.

She could not keep relying on her good Samaritan. He would tire of her eventually, or maybe he would ask for something in return and she would be unable to provide. Although, at this point, she thought she would do just about anything to be able to seclude herself away and never show her face in the world ever again.

What would her price be, she wondered to herself at nights, if her stalker came for her? She had been so adamant that no matter how bad things got she would never sell herself, never trade her body, but now… and it would just be him, she told herself, her rich patron who had been so very good to her and so far asked nothing in return. And he wouldn’t force her, would give her the choice, let her walk away, but she wouldn’t. She would embrace him, she would promise him whatever he asked for in exchange for her freedom from this life, from this squalor.

So, when she returned home to an open door, more open than it had been before, she stepped inside and called out almost eagerly.

“Are you still here? Please, I’m not angry, I’m not upset, I just want to meet you. You’ve been so good to me,” she glanced into the living room and went up the stairs, but her stalker was gone. She sighed sadly, returning to the drawer and the envelope.

A key fell out of the envelope along with another note.

_Sayu Yagami_

_100-1183, Sasayama, Hasuda-shi, Saitama, 349-0103_

An address. That was all, an address and a key…

Surely not. It couldn’t be. She figured her patron had to be rich, but this…

Could he really be renting her a house? Or was this his home? Was he inviting her to a trap, to catch her and keep her?

Anything would be better than this life. She already knew that she would go.

The next morning a moving van pulled up to the house, two heavy set men collecting all her belongings and taking them out to the van. She didn’t protest, of course, but she was suspicious that if she had tried to protest they wouldn’t have listened, and she didn’t protest when they had her get into the front between them, especially when she noticed one of them had a hand under their coat. Grasping a weapon?

This had to be a trap, but she didn’t care. Anything would be better than the life of Sayu Yagami, even her death.

They pulled up hours later in front of a lovely detached cottage, the sort of thing she had only ever seen on postcards before. It sat in the middle of a large garden with huge high walls, and cameras facing both in and out. No one would get in without being caught on camera.

No one would be able to get out, either.

“Am I a prisoner?” she asked one of the men, the driver. They hadn’t spoken the whole journey, so she wasn’t sure why she still bothered to ask questions.

“Probably,” he shrugged. “You’ll have to ask the boss.”

“And who is the boss?” she asked, her heart skipping a beat as he reached below his coat again.

“No more questions,” he instructed. “Go inside.”

She obeyed, staring at the beauty of the place, and the decoration that was already there inside the home. It was stunning, perfectly suited to her style, conservative and elegant and understated. It was everything she had ever wanted for herself, everything she thought she would never have as the sister of Light Yagami.

There was a cost. There were cameras, obvious and attached to the ceiling, and they followed her every move. But as she explored she could see no cameras in the bathroom, so that was at least a blessing. She would have one place she would be safe, where she could change her clothes without being seen.

“Who watches the cameras?” she asked the other of the burly men when she caught him alone.

“The boss,” he told her.

She nodded and thanked him.

“And who is that?”

His hand reached for his coat but she held up her hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be asking that,” she sighed. “I just wanted to know who my rescuer was, that’s all.”

The man laughed at her shamelessly.

“Rescuer? That’s a good one,” he shook his head as he left her, going to bring in her television and wire it in.

* * *

 

The men were gone by nightfall, and Sayu tried the front door. It opened without resistance. She was not locked in, and that was reassuring.

She wandered aimlessly around the large garden, picking a few flowers and forming a bouquet for the center of the table. She did try the main gate, but this was locked. A prisoner, then, but in a gilded cage.

She could live with that.

She went back inside, considering her options.

Oh, but her patron had really outdone himself. This cottage, this home. This freedom, to be away from the world.

She wondered what he would ask for in return. She would give it, gladly, if she could.

No point in pretending that this wasn’t about sex. If he was doing all this for her, he had to want something in return and the only thing she could think of that she had to give him was sex. She had thought about the price she would pay for his assistance, and she had already resolved that she could do this…

Time to stop playing the fool. She should thank him.

She went to the bathroom, hovering in front of the mirror as she braced herself. She could do this. She wanted to do this. Without his help she might not have even survived the last few months, desperate as she had been. The loan sharks had been breathing down her neck, and she wouldn’t even have had the money to eat without his contribution.

She stripped down to her underwear, surveying them critically. It was a set he had bought for her, black lace with ribbons connecting the bra to the underwear, and she liked the effect it made on her skin.

“Here goes nothing,” she whispered to herself and went through to the sitting room. She arranged herself as best she could on the sofa, trying for seductive. “Are you watching?”

The room remained silent, but then she had not expected a reply.

“I hope you’re watching,” she told him. She hoped it was a him. “I want you to watch.”

She pictured him; given the nature of his employees, no doubt he was a man to be feared. No doubt he was some underworld boss, someone who wouldn’t look down on her for being the sister of Kira but desire her for it instead, the sister of the most successful killer of all time. Perhaps he thought she shared some of her brother’s spirit. Perhaps she did.

He would likely be huge, muscled, far larger than her. He would be intimidating, and perhaps scarred. She didn’t lie to herself, didn’t pretend he would necessarily be attractive. Attractive men had no need to hide their face, wouldn’t need to imprison their would-be lovers in a gilded cage to attend when they saw fit. But she thought anyone who had a good enough heart to reach out to her, to protect her as he had, would be attractive on the inside at least.

She would not mind if he was unattractive, she told herself. She was not so shallow. Besides, a pretty face could hide a monster within, as her brother had proven.

She stroked over her neck and down, over her breasts and further…

“Stop.”

The voice made her jump, made her shriek and jolt upwards from the sofa, looking around for its source, but there was no one there.

“This is not why I brought you here.”

The voice came from the walls, from electronics rather than a person. He sounded younger than she had expected, her stalker, or perhaps the voice was altered to a higher pitch.

“But I thought…”

“Sayu Yagami,” he spoke the words reverently. “I do not expect such _payment_ for this.”

“Then… why…?”

“Is it not enough, to be kind?” he sounded hurt. “The world has judged you unfairly, Miss Yagami, and I endeavor not to do the same.”

“But… then, what do you want?” she was confused, and she wanted a sheet to wrap around herself. If not sex… she had nothing, nothing to give him.

“Why must I want anything?” he demanded sharply.

“You…” she hesitated, trying to think of a reason why he would not want anything more from her. “You just want me here? Imprisoned here?”

“You are not imprisoned,” he grumbled. “I saw you try the gate. The key is in the hallway drawer. It is locked for your safety, not to keep you inside.”

“But then… I have to do something,” she couldn’t reason a world in which a man would simply be _kind_ , not to her. “I have to give you something. Please?”

He sighed heavily. “I… if you really must, I would accept your company.”

“My company?”

“Have dinner with me,” he requested. “Just dinner. Not sex, not something else. We can eat food and talk. That’s all.”

“Yes,” she gasped, beaming. “Yes, of course…”

“Sayu?” he stalled her.

“Yes?”

“I am sorry, about your brother.”

Her breath caught.

“He was a murderer,” she spoke the words dully, by rote. “He killed thousands of people. The world is better off without him.”

“He was your brother, and you loved him,” the voice reflected, and tears came to her eyes.

“I did,” she breathed. “I do. Why do I still… he _killed_ people… how can I still?”

“He was your brother,” the voice restated. “You saw him differently. Tell me about him?”

Sayu sniffed, tears threatening to spill. “Is that why you want me here? To get information about Kira?”

“No, Sayu,” he soothed. “But I would try to understand. This hurts you, and I think speaking about it might help.”

“I…” she hesitated, wiping her eyes, but more tears fell in steady trails down her cheeks, and it hurt to think of Light before Kira, before L and a magical Notebook stole the brother she loved away long before his death. It hurt, but as she began to speak it all came out at once. Light, her older brother, the genius – the nerd – helping her with her homework. Playing with her when she was little, teaching her to read, teaching her to ride her bicycle, helping her mother to teach her to swim. Where he led, she followed, no matter what. Perhaps that was why when she had found out her brother was Kira she had suddenly understood, suddenly seen what Kira was doing and why it was so very needed, why it was just.

She thought he was listening, her strange stalker, but she couldn’t be sure. He could easily have muted her out, gone away to make a cup of tea, got bored and fallen asleep… he could, but she thought he listened, and she continued to speak until her throat was sore and her eyes were dry.

“I am sorry for your loss,” he spoke when she could speak no more. “You should go to bed, Miss Yagami.”

“Yes,” she nodded. Gosh, she must look a sight, snotty and flushed and with trails of tears in her make up. “Yes, of course.”

“Goodnight, sweet girl.”

* * *

 

Sayu had dressed for the occasion. He had said dinner, no sex, but…

He was still a man, after all, and she was attractive and she wanted him to keep her around. She had nothing else to offer, and after her show last night, she should be ashamed of herself.

He had bought her everything she was wearing, from the long black boots to the leather choker around her neck, the corset between (worn without any form of blouse underneath, so that between the laces her smooth skin could be seen) and the short pencil skirt with suspenders and stockings. He couldn’t complain about her wearing it, using it to tempt him.

The men waiting for her in the car averted their eyes. She was sure it was not in their nature. They looked like mob enforcers, both of them, and likely they were. Her patron must be their boss, a man to be truly feared, but maybe, just maybe, not by her.

They flanked her once she was out of the car, both of them with hands in their coats as if they were holding their guns, as if they expected her to run. But she was not a prisoner, and they didn’t understand. She wasn’t going to run; not away, anyway. Her heart was racing, anticipating.

They approached a door, deep in the rabbit warren of a building, flanked by two more guards.

“The guest for the boss,” right-side hit man told the guards, and the door was opened to let them pass.

There was a table, laid out with food; delicacies, every one of her favorite foods and more. Beyond it, sofas and a log fine burning in the hearth.

“Leave us.”

A solitary figure, the back of a head, and a voice only slightly different to the electronic form she had heard the night before but painfully, excruciatingly familiar. The guards did not argue, but left immediately, the door locking behind them.

“Sayu Yagami,” the man spoke from his chair, his back still turned to her. “Welcome to my home.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” she tried to make her voice sound sexy but it was difficult with her throat as dry as this. Where had she heard that voice before?

“Come closer,” he ordered, and she obeyed, coming around the chair to see him.

She gasped, recognizing his face, burned now and older but still the same as those years ago.

“It’s you…”

“Mello,” he supplied. “That’s my name. It is good to see you again, Miss Yagami.”

“This is the second time you have kidnapped me,” she glared. “Why?”

“I would seek your forgiveness,” he told her. “For kidnapping you once before. For my part in the death of your brother…”

“You can’t lie to me,” she snarled. “You would do it again in an instant, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” Mello nodded. “Kira had to fall. But I am sorry that your brother was lost with Kira.”

“My brother was Kira,” she spoke with a pride she had not known she possessed. “He would have changed the world.”

“Oh, dear Sayu,” Mello shook his head. “Your brother tore the world apart, remade it in his own image. You would support him, even now?”

“Yes,” she held her head high.

“Every bit as stubborn as I remember,” Mello chuckled. “Screaming into the wind hoping to turn back the oncoming storm.”

“Can I leave now?” she demanded, not willing to listen to him teasing her.

“You promised me dinner,” his tone was sharp as a knife edge.

She fell silent. How could this boy, this skinny lanky thing, rule over the men she had just seen? How could he keep power amidst them?

He had to be dangerous, and she had promised him dinner.

“Fine,” she huffed. “I’m hungry anyway.”

He nodded, offering his hand to lead her to the table. She did not take it.

“Miss Yagami,” he took her hand, though she tried to pull it away. He hooked it into his elbow, leading her across. “Share dinner with me, be good company as you promised, and if you still wish to leave afterwards, I will ensure you are comfortable for the rest of your life.”

“Then why would I stay?” she sneered at him.

“Stay, and I will ensure you live like the Queen you should be.”

* * *

 

It wasn’t a bad life.

No one judged her here. No one heard the name Yagami and thought of Kira.

No, here amongst her own and with her lover by her side, the name Yagami meant something more. It was the name of their Queen, the woman who stood side by side with the leader of their mob, expanded now to cover three continents with the pair of them at its head.

Sayu Yagami had something of her brother in her after all. She had a cool, calculating mind. Perhaps books had never been of interest to her, but tactical maneuvers in the field? Destabilizing a government by knowing exactly which back bench official to assassinate to make it fall apart from the shadows? These she could do. These, she had learned to delight in.

Between them, they had a monopoly on crime. It was perhaps an unorthodox way to complete her brother’s mission to end crime in all its forms, but it was her way and that was alright. Sayu Yagami was not her brother, would not be judged against his achievements.

Still, she thought, she would insist to Mello that their child growing within her should be named accordingly; Light Yagami, since Mello claimed to no last name. Now she just had to work out how to tell him.

**Author's Note:**

> A rare pairing. I'd love to know what you think. Comments & kudos keep me motivated


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